


It's Always Been You

by bistiles_bilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Derek/Paige - Friendship, Idiots in Love, Jealous Stiles, M/M, Mechanic Derek, Mentioned Jackson Whittemore, Mentioned Paige
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5384117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bistiles_bilinski/pseuds/bistiles_bilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles had rehearsed what he wanted to say for the past hour, had the words down solid until Derek walked in the door. In his defense, how were you supposed to remember anything when he showed up in a greasy tank top with his stupid bulging muscles and those fucking jeans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Always Been You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend and I decided to post it here too (:

Stiles had rehearsed what he wanted to say for the past hour, had the words down solid until Derek walked in the door. In his defense, how were you supposed to remember anything when he showed up in a greasy tank top with his stupid bulging muscles and _those fucking jeans_.

There were perks to your best friend being a mechanic in the making, perks like Derek fixing his Jeep when her get up and go got up and left. He at the table with a glass of lemonade, feet propped on the next chair over and his eyes closed.

“I don't know why I ever think it's a good idea to stay up until four in the morning talking to Paige,” Derek said with a groan, even though his face was smoothed into a relaxed smile.

Stiles tried not to let his face do that thing that Scott says it does whenever Paige is mentioned, it's hard because it's a knee-jerk reaction. Especially when it's Derek who brings her up. He turned around and bit his lip, hoping that if he couldn't stop it he could at least hide it.

“You're making that face, aren't you?”

Stiles glanced behind his shoulder at Derek who still had his eyes firmly closed. Damn him. “No!” he said, scoffing.

“Liar.” The chuckle that accompanied that single word sent shivers up Stiles’ spine and he tried hard not to let himself blush.

He heard the chair scrape across the floor and dug his nails into the palm of his hand as Derek said, “Now you're embarrassed,  you are so fucking adorable.”

His cheeks burned as he squeezed his fists harder, sure there were crescent moons where pain was prickling in his palm. The chair clattered and Derek was standing in front of him in seconds, eyes roaming over him and zoning in on his clenched hands.

“Stiles,” he said softly, reaching out and ghosting his fingers down his clenched knuckles, “cut it out.” He refused to open his eyes, keeping them shut tight as Derek gently worked his fingers apart. “I don't get it, what's your problem with Paige? Why do you hate her, she's a nice girl.”

Which was exactly the problem, it was hard to hate the girl your crush was crushing on when she was absolutely fucking perfect. And sweet. And perfect for Derek in a way Stiles knew he never could be. “I don't hate her,” he said weakly, not even believing himself.

“Lie,” Derek whispered, his fingers trailing up the thin skin of Stiles’ wrist and making him shiver.

Damn his stupid werewolf hearing. “She doesn't understand you.” The words would have been barely audible to someone who couldn't hear a heartbeat from who knew how many miles away.

Derek’s fingers stilled briefly before continuing up to his elbow and running them back down to his wrist, _calming him_ , his mind helpfully supplied. “What do you mean, Stiles?”

His voice was warm, washing over his face and making his pulse beat at a more normal rate. “She's never going to understand why you run around naked on full moons, or why we have our Friday night pizza and a movie. She's never going to get why you collect those stupid little action figures from the 80’s or why you a triskele tattooed on your back. She doesn't get you!”

Derek stopped completely. Stiles slammed his eyes closed once again and dropped his hands to his side, jumping when he felt Derek’s thumbs brush against his eyelids. “You're right, she probably won't. But Stiles, she's not my girlfriend and she never will be. We're friends, _really good_ friends, but I don't really swing that way.”

Stiles sucked in a hard breath as fingers grazed the skin of his neck, before he felt warm breath against his ear. “And how the hell would you know that I run half naked on full moons?” Derek whispered, lips brushing against skin.

“Oh God,” he groaned, heat flooding his cheeks once again. He pushed at Derek’s chest saying loudly, “Don't you have a Jeep to fix?”

“Yeah, but this is way more fun,” he said with a laugh.

Stiles glared at him before stomping over to the sink. “Derek Hale, I swear I'll spike your next glass of lemonade with wolfsbane if you don't shut up and go away.”

Hands grabbed at his hips and he yelped in a very manly way as he was spun around. “Like I said,” Derek shuffled closer and cupped his jaw, “this is more fun.”

Stiles didn't know what to expect, but Derek pressing his lips softly against his own sure as hell wasn't it. There was a noise that could only be described as squealing and some flailing before his hands landed on Derek’s waist and he tilted his head, allowing Derek to slip his tongue inside and yeah, that was much better.

He was backed further into the sink as Derek slotted their legs together, making them both moan and Stiles pull away with a gasp. “What's the matter?” Derek asked,  his breath coming in pants while his eyes searched his face.

Stiles had to take a minute and enjoy the way Derek’s eyes looked unfocused, his lips shone, and the way his hair had gone from perfectly styled to whatever the hell this was. He'd done that, he'd made Derek Hale look like he'd fallen apart.

“Stiles?” Derek asked again, undeniable panic rising in his voice.

“Calm down, Big Guy,” Stiles answered, running his hands up Derek’s chest, because he could _do_ that now, and tugging him back against him. “This isn't some sick joke, right? Jackson isn't going to jump out from behind the couch and yell ‘gotcha’ anytime soon?”

Derek made a sour face as he shook his head. “It's you, Stiles. It's always been you.”

Stiles figured he'd just ask what that meant at a later date, because Derek was honing in on his neck and god that felt good.

◇

When the sheriff came home an hour later and they were spread out on the couch, legs tangled and Derek in a pair of Stiles’ sweats, he just groaned and said, “I don't want to hear about any of this. And for _God's_ sake, keep it in the bedroom.”

**Author's Note:**

> you'll make me smile like an idiot if you comment and kudo, also you should come [ tumbl](http://bi-stiles-bilinski.tumblr.com/) with me!! i cry over these two idiots daily


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